


Notes - A Continuation

by Djinnaat



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: #AbbieMillsIsWorkingIt, #IchabbieWeekend, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-08-20 00:11:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8229544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djinnaat/pseuds/Djinnaat
Summary: What happened after the fateful first meeting of Ichabod, Mr. 205, and his lovely neighbor, Abbie?





	1. Making a Connection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sleepyheadfan20](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepyheadfan20/gifts).



As the evening was winding down, there was a brief, uncomfortable silence in what had been a night full of laughter and easy conversation. It was getting late, and although neither one wanted the evening to end, neither did they want to be the last one to say goodnight. As if it meant something more than taking their leave of one another, neither Abbie nor Ichabod wanted to come across as desperate. As desperate as both of them felt at that moment, feeling that they had found, not just a friend, but something much more. Finally, Ichabod spoke.

“Miss Mills, Abbie, I hate to say it, but it is getting so late. I don’t know, I feel like I have known you forever, like I could sit here talking to you all night, but I would be remiss if I keep you from your rest.”

Abbie flushed slightly, knowing that he was probably right, but not wanting any more than he did for this magical night to end.

“Of course, Ichabod, you’re absolutely right. I’ve got tons of things to do before I go to bed, and my sister is spending the night with me, so I want to check in with her and make sure she doesn’t need anything.”

Rising from their chairs, the two walked to the door, neither one breaking eye contact with the other. Finally, Ichabod took Abbie’s hand and laid a brief kiss on the back of her hand.

“I wish you goodnight, Abbie, and sweet dreams. And I hope that this will be the first of many conversations. My door is always open to you,” he added, softly caressing the hand he still held.

Abbie felt a shiver run down her spine when his soft, warm lips touched her skin. Good grief, she thought, this man is sweeping me off my feet without even trying. 

Abbie smiled as Ichabod reached for the doorknob and turned fully to face him.

“Likewise, Ichabod, likewise. It has been such a pleasure. Thank you for the lovely tea and conversation. Sleep well.”

As Ichabod closed the door behind her, he realized that sleep would be the last thing on his mind this night. Sighing softly, he sat in his favorite chair and pulled out an unfinished book, a faraway look in his eyes as he smiled…


	2. The Night After

The next day, Abbie woke up with a smile. It didn’t take long for Jenny to figure out what was causing it.

“So,” she said, smiling as she scrambled eggs for their breakfast, “it went well? I was pooped out and didn’t hear you come in.”

Abbie’s smile broadened as she looked at her sister’s knowing smile and arched eyebrow. “Yeah, it was great.”

“And?” Jenny prompted. “You’re not going to spill the details? I know how to get it out of you…” 

Turning off the eggs and removing them from the heat, Jenny crept up to Abbie like a movie villain, with Abbie backing away from her, shaking a disapproving finger.

“I swear, if you try to tickle me…” she started off, just in time for Jenny to spring at her, both sisters collapsing on the living room sofa in fits of giggles.

“No, seriously, Abbs, how did it go? From his notes, he seems like a really cool guy.”

Abbie ducked her head and grinned. “Well, maybe cool is not the right word. He’s a really neat guy, really smart and kind, but in a bookish kind of way. I like him, though,” she added, her cheeks flushing slightly.

“So, are you going to see him again?” Jenny asked, poking her sister jokingly in the ribs.

“Yeah, we’re going to catch some lunch tomorrow. We don’t work too far from one another, so we’re going out for Indian tomorrow.”

Just then, they heard a slight shuffling by the door. A small folded piece of paper appeared as if by magic.

The sisters just looked at one another, Jenny with an ‘I knew he really liked you’ smirk and Abbie with an excited grin.

Abbie went over and opened the door, not finding Mr. 205, well, Ichabod, anywhere in sight. She picked up the note and returned to the sofa, opening the folded piece of paper with slightly trembling hands.

My Dear Abbie,

I had such a wonderful time yesterday. I don’t think I have talked that much since I was a schoolboy! It was so delightful making your acquaintance, and I look forward to our luncheon date tomorrow with great anticipation.

I hope you rested well last night, and I wish you a very pleasant day indeed.

Yours,

Ichabod Crane


	3. Curry and Conversation

The next day, Ichabod took extra care with his morning grooming. Making sure his mustache and beard were trimmed neatly. Using a dash of his favorite cologne. Choosing the blue shirt that everyone said brought out the color of his eyes. He hadn’t been this excited to see someone since… well, for a long time. He was not going to compare this to old relationships, or happier times gone sour.

Abbie Mills was a delight. He was struck by her beauty. Well, struck was perhaps mild, unless one was speaking of lightning. Although he was loath to admit it, the brilliance of her soft brown eyes, her soft, but lush curves, and her glossy black ringlets caused his stomach to tighten. Good Lord, man, he thought, get ahold of yourself! We can’t have you slavering over the poor woman like a rabid dog!

His day went well at the library; there were several requests that required additional research, and the time flew quickly until it was almost time to meet his lovely neighbor. He thought the upscale Indian restaurant located centrally between their workplaces would offer a convivial atmosphere conducive to conversation.

He got there a few minutes before time to meet, finding himself unaccountably nervous. He wiped his sweaty palms against his khaki dress slacks, then adjusted his tie and smoothed back his sometimes unruly hair. God’s wounds, he thought, stop fidgeting, man!

Just then, Abbie came through the door. Although she was dressed in her everyday clothes, consisting of a pair of close-fitting black slacks, a white collarless shirt, and black leather jacket, he thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“Abbie, so good to see you. You look delightful,” he exclaimed softly, gently taking her hand.

Abbie blushed slightly at his warm tone and the even warmer look in his eyes. Gosh, she thought, had she ever seen eyes that color blue?

“Thank you, Ichabod, you look nice yourself,” she replied, ducking her head shyly.

It was then Ichabod’s turn to blush. “Well, I think we can choose our seats,” he said, leading her to a table a little out of the way.

They settled their things and helped themselves to the plentiful buffet.

“So,” he finally said, with them having finished most of their appetizers, “how was your day today?”

Abbie had been working on a particularly challenging case, so he knew that she had her hands full. She went on to fill him on their progress, as much as she could, anyway. There were, of course, certain details that she couldn’t divulge, but she could give him an overall picture. The people they were looking for were bad news, and not only for confidentiality purposes, but to keep those around her safe, she was very circumspect in her explanations. He did, however, catch on that it had to do with a smuggling ring.

With concern in his voice, Ichabod reached across the table and took her hand, surprising them both. 

“Abbie, I know you are a professional, and perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, but please, I beg you, please take care.”

Abbie looked into his eyes, seeing the concern and fear registered there, and gave his hand a squeeze. It really touched her that he cared so much.

“Thank you, Ichabod, I appreciate that. I am careful; anyway, I always look both ways before crossing the street,” she added playfully, giving him a wink to defuse the air.

He smiled and released her hand, leaning back in his chair. He then glanced over at the door, his mouth dropping open in shock.

“Mother, Father, I didn’t know you liked Indian food.”


	4. Meet the Parents

Abbie stiffened. His parents? Of all people for them to run into, why today? Still, she put her most professional smile on and steeled herself. She had heard enough about them to be wary.

Ichabod stood, shooting an apologetic glance in Abbie’s direction, who gave him a slight, encouraging smile.

“Mother, Father, this is Miss Abbie Mills. She is my neighbor and friend,” he said, as Abbie stood to shake their hands. She could see where he got his good looks and patrician bearing, but his parents obviously lacked his warmth.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Crane,” she said, briefly shaking hands as they all studied one another. She could feel their assessing gaze, likely wondering about this young woman having lunch with their son.

“The pleasure is all ours, Miss Mills, I assure you,” his mother said, her tone aristocratic and, to Abbie’s ears, kind of haughty. “Ichabod,” she said, turning to her son, “are you not going to ask your parents to join you?”

Ichabod’s face went from pink to red, not believing his parents’ nerve. But then again, he knew them, and he shouldn’t have been surprised. 

“Actually, Mother…” he began, until Abbie jumped in.

“By all means, please do. We haven’t quite finished yet, and we would be happy for you to join us,” she added graciously, gesturing for them to have a seat while flashing an apologetic look in Ichabod’s direction.

Ichabod looked almost apoplectic by that point. Well, if this didn’t scare off his lovely neighbor, he thought, I will positively marry the woman, because she must be a saint. Or completely mad, he added.

The Cranes sat, and after a brief, uncomfortable moment of silence, Mrs. Crane spoke up.

“So, Miss Mills, what is it that you do?”

Abbie smiled at the older woman. “I’m an agent for the FBI.”

Abbie thought both his parents’ eyebrows would disappear in their hairlines.

“FBI,” his father exclaimed. “That seems like an awfully dangerous position for a little thing like you!”

Abbie sighed inwardly, casting a glance in Ichabod’s direction, who was looking at her with a combination of “I’m so sorry” and “Well, you asked them, I didn’t” on his handsome face.

“Yes, it definitely is, sir, but I started out as a Sheriff’s Deputy here locally, but Quantico, the FBI, was my dream. I graduated in the top 5% of my class, so I’m well prepared for the bad guys,” she added cheekily.

She thought she saw the beginnings of a smile on Mrs. Crane’s face, but she wasn’t sure. What a shock, she thought wryly. 

“Ah, very good, very good, quite an accomplishment,” Mr. Crane replied. “By the way, speaking of talented individuals, did you know that Ichabod’s fiancée owns her own business?”


	5. A Step Forward

Ichabod, who had been silently following the conversation, nodding and smiling as appropriate, choked on his pakora. If only the floorboards would open up and swallow him whole!

“Father, Katrina is NOT my fiancée, she is NOT my girlfriend; in fact, we are not even friends. I wish you would not bring her up. Her accomplishments are not comparable to Miss Mills, who is protecting us and saving lives on a daily basis,” he barked out, his voice rising slightly with each pronouncement.

“Ichabod, watch your tone with your father! And do not make a scene! We are in no way belittling the accomplishments of your Miss Mills, we are simply making conversation,” she added, her tone brooking no argument. 

“Well, your conversation, Mother,” Ichabod replied, rising from his chair, “has taken my appetite. Come, Abbie, let me escort you to your work,” he added, holding his hand out to Abbie.

Abbie took his hand as he reached in his other pocket, putting two twenties on the table, and nodded to his parents.

“Mr. and Mrs. Crane, please excuse us. Our lunchtime is nearly over, and we need to get back. It was a pleasure meeting you,” she added graciously.

Mr. Crane stood as he and his wife nodded to the young woman; Ichabod nodded brusquely at his parents and stormed out, Abbie in tow.

“Ichabod, Ichabod, stop,” Abbie finally said as they rounded the corner, off the main thoroughfare, pulling him to a stop as she pulled him closer.

Ichabod closed the distance between them and pulled her into a tight embrace. She hugged him back, and after a moment, he released her.

“I am so sorry, Abbie. I am so humiliated. They had no right to bring up Katrina, and it is a complete lie. She is no longer in my life, and she never will be.”

Abbie brushed her hand up and down his arm, trying to calm him. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m your neighbor, remember? I heard what happened when Katrina came by. And don’t worry, I get it. You’ve told me enough about your parents that I wasn’t shocked at all. In fact,” she added, a slight smirk playing about her lovely lips, “I’m surprised they were as gracious as they were!”

Ichabod laughed bitterly. “Yes, gracious indeed. They are so intent on me being with Katrina that they would try to sabotage any relationship I enter into.”

Abbie smiled, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“So, we’re in a relationship, are we?”

Ichabod laughed as he pulled her closer.

“Hope springs eternal,” he replied, as he kissed her forehead. “Come on, let’s get you back to work on time.”

Taking her hand in his as they walked towards the FBI office, he forgot about his parents and their meddling as she smiled up at him.

The next few days passed uneventfully. They were both busy with their work, but they found themselves developing their own routine: at night, Ichabod would leave Abbie a note about his day, and in the morning, Abbie would leave Ichabod a note about what she had planned for her day. After a few days, Abbie got the note she had been looking for since their interrupted luncheon date.

Abbie,

As wonderful as it is awakening to your notes each morning, I feel a need to see you. If you have no plans this evening, I would be pleased to invite you over for dinner and perhaps a movie. Please let me know if you are available (by the way, I have been told that I am a passable cook).

Yours Truly,

Ichabod

Abbie hurriedly grabbed her notepad (that she had gotten just for their daily notes).

Ichabod,

I would be happy to! What time should I be there? 

Looking forward to seeing you then – thank you for the invitation.

Abbie

As she got ready for work, Abbie found herself humming under her breath. It was going to be a good day.


	6. Dinner and a Movie!

Well, it hadn’t turned out to be a great day after all, but Abbie was still high from the happy feeling she got whenever she knew she would get to see Ichabod. She wasn’t sure how he felt, but if the warm looks he flashed in her direction were any indication, the feeling was mutual.

She knew exactly what she was going to wear. She had a cute sundress with criss-cross spaghetti straps and a flirty flared skirt in a floral print that complimented her bronze skin. Paired with gold drop earrings, a light cardigan in case it got chilly, and coral wedges, it made her feel beautiful and confident. She added a quick spritz of her favorite cologne, fluffed her soft curls that she was wearing down that evening, and headed over to Number 205.

As she knocked on the door, she had a moment of slight nervousness, but it was quickly dispelled when Ichabod opened his door with a huge smile on his face. He briefly took in her appearance as he opened the door for her to come in. Casually dressed in a pale aqua polo shirt and soft denim jeans, he looked relaxed and incredibly handsome.

“Please, Abbie, do come in. My,” he exclaimed, “you look like a beautiful tropical flower! Absolutely lovely.”

Abbie blushed a deep red as she met Ichabod’s admiring gaze.

“Why, thank you, kind sir, you don’t look half bad yourself,” she replied in a teasing tone, causing Ichabod to blush in return.

Taking her hand, Ichabod led Abbie to the bar at the pass-through to his kitchen. The aromas emanating from his kitchen were mouth-watering, and Abbie was amazed that this clever, bookish man could also burn in the kitchen.

“Wow, Ichabod, that smells amazing. What’s on the menu?”

You, my dear, he thought, mentally chiding himself for thinking such a thing as soon as it popped into his head. His neighbor was a beautiful woman, but she was also a kind, upstanding lady. 

As he plated their dinner, they sat quietly for a moment at his dinner table enjoying their meal. Ichabod had opted for something simple: a roast he left simmering while at work, carrots, potatoes, fresh bread, and salad. A light red wine complemented the meal, with an apple crisp and vanilla ice cream for dessert.

They intermittently made polite conversation during the meal, opting to savor the delicious food and respite from the day’s worries. Once they finished, they took their dishes to the kitchen; Ichabod again took Abbie by the hand, leading her into his den. It was his favorite place, the place where he went to unwind after a long day. Not as formal as the living area, he had a soft tufted sofa, plush throws, a few occasional chairs, desk, and big screen television. It was cozy, comfortable, and very masculine. Abbie decided immediately that she loved it.

“I really love your apartment, how you make it seem so homey, Ichabod. This must be your favorite room,” Abbie exclaimed, taking a seat next to him on the sofa.

Ichabod smiled down at his guest, reaching for the television remote.

“Thank you, Abbie. I’m so glad you like it. I would imagine we have similar floorplans, but I would love to see how you have decorated your home.”

Abbie smiled as she felt Ichabod’s arm rest behind her on the back of the couch. The slight contact caused a tingle to go racing down her spine.

“Next time, dinner is on me. I hear that my mac and cheese and banana pudding are to die for…” she said with a wink.

“I will definitely take you up on that, my dear. Now,” he said crisply, pointing to the TV with the remote, “what is milady’s pleasure? Comedy? Drama? Perhaps romance?” he added, wiggling his eyebrows, causing Abbie to burst into laughter.

Once her giggles subsided, she looked at Ichabod with a sly look. “Well, believe it or not, I am a horror and sci fi buff.”

Ichabod had to laugh. Could this woman be any more perfect? He had cut his teeth on Edgar Allen Poe, Isaac Asimov, and the like. And the creatures of Stan Lee and Ray Harryhausen were some of his favorites. It didn’t hurt that a few chills and thrills sometimes left the ladies clinging to her beau in fright!

Finally, they decided on a tense supernatural thriller. As they sat watching the movie, Ichabod pulled the large matching ottoman closer and draped one of the soft chenille throws over the two of them. Although the movie was gripping and suspenseful, he was too distracted by the beauty sitting next to him. As close as they were, the smell of coconut, vanilla, and a light floral scent assailed his nose, causing his heart to beat a little faster. The soft curls tickling his arm. The heat of her body tucked in close to him. If he didn’t do something, he thought he would die.

Gently, he moved his arm, resting his hand against her hair, nudging her head onto his shoulder. He leaned toward her, and as she turned her head, he softly touched his lips to hers. A jolt of electricity seemed to flow between them, causing a soft groan to escape his lips, accompanied by the sweetest sigh he had ever heard, emanating from hers. He deepened the kiss, stroking her cheek with his other hand. They sat like that for several minutes, drinking in the other, reveling in the taste and texture of each other’s lips.

Finally, Abbie pulled back, settling back against the cushions. They looked deeply into each other’s eyes, sitting that way for several minutes. Neither one of them wanted to break the spell. Neither one wanted to be the first to speak. What had happened was too precious. It was too thrilling. It was overwhelming. Neither had felt that connection before, and it shook them.

Ichabod smiled at her, reaching across to caress her soft cheek. That seemed to break the tension somewhat, and they settled back in to watching the film. Neither one was concentrating much on the scene unfolding before them; they were deep in thought reliving the earth-shattering kiss they had just shared.

When the movie was over, they sat, not speaking, lost in thought, wondering what to do next. Abbie finally broke the silence.

“Wow, this has been an… interesting evening. I think I better get back, though. Have to get up early for work.”

She reached out and ran her fingers lightly through Ichabod’s beard, giving it a gentle tug as she smiled.

Ichabod didn’t want her to go, and he guessed she probably didn’t want to, either. But it was better this way, to not rush things. He knew deep in his bones that this was something special, something momentous, and he didn’t want to spoil it.

Returning her smile, he stood and held out his hand. She took it and hand in hand, they walked to the door. As they reached the door, Ichabod turned and took her into his arms, taking her lips one last time before she left. They looked deep into each other’s eyes as if to memorize the other’s face.

“I had a great time, Ichabod. Thank you for dinner and the movie,” she said as she opened the door.

“The pleasure is all mine, Abbie. I wish you a good night and sweet dreams,” he replied, dropping a brief, sweet kiss on her lips.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A huge secret is revealed as Ichabod and Abbie's personal life is impacted by Abbie's latest case.

Over the next couple of weeks, Ichabod and Abbie settled into a routine of meeting at least twice a week for dinner, as well as still leaving each other their daily notes. Although they hadn’t spoken of it, there seemed to be a tacit understanding that they would only allow the attraction between them to go so far. Other than a few kisses throughout the evening, they merely spent time enjoying each other’s company, laughing, and sharing stories.

Fortunately, each one was also busy with their respective jobs. Ichabod was overjoyed to have plans for a new wing to the library accepted; Sleepy Hollow, although a relatively small village, was growing as more people wanted a slower-paced environment to raise their families. This expansion would almost double the existing space.

For her part, Abbie immersed herself in her new assignment. Antique artifacts were being smuggled and sold; while most of the traffic seemed to originate in Europe, there was also some indication that this was a worldwide trafficking ring. Unfortunately, if they didn’t get a handle on this problem, it could have grave consequences; other countries didn’t take the wholesale theft and sale of their ancient artifacts lightly.

That particular day, they were lucky to have caught a break. One of their informants told them there was a shipment coming in from France. They were to be shipped in with some Louis XIV-era items. They were destined for various buyers, but several of them were shops there in Sleepy Hollow.

“So, what you got for me, Manny,” Abbie asked, looking at the young man in the black suit. “You got a list of places this shipment is headed for, right?”

“Yeah, Agent Mills, I got it right here.” 

Abbie quickly scanned the list, then made copies and circulated to the other team members. They divided up the sites in four quadrants, determining that to be the best way to catch the culprits in the act. Abbie felt a certain sense of satisfaction that they seemed to be on top of the problem, and hopefully, the issue would be resolved soon.

That afternoon, Abbie and her partner sat across the street from the costume shop. There was a great deal of activity early on as several large crates were brought in. Finally, once things died down a bit, they decided to make their move. 

The bust was a success. The owner had been trading under an assumed name; to all the world she was Katrina Van Tassel, but in reality, she was the infamous Belladonna Maiden. The Belladonna Maiden was something of a legend in her native Netherlands; she had moved to England, and under the assumed name of Katrina Van Tassel, was one of the most prolific black marketers in British history. She sewed ancient relics in the skirts and seams of antique ballgowns; some of these relics dated back to Ancient Rome and Greece, and many were said to have otherworldly powers. 

While she felt relieved, she also was concerned. She was, after all, becoming involved with Katrina’s ex-beau, and his parents were positively smitten with her. If things progressed with Ichabod, would this cause friction between her and his parents? Lord knows the situation was fraught enough with them looking askance at anyone who was not the accomplished, fiery-haired entrepreneur they looked to as their own daughter; for her to be the cause of her downfall, would they accept her? Well, she couldn’t fret too much over it. What’s done is done, and justice would hopefully be served, for those that she cheated out of their cultural heritage, as well as those who fell prey to the rougher elements of the criminal elements with whom she did business. Time to head out for the day, and break the news to Ichabod…


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abbie faces Ichabod and breaks the news to him.

Hi, Ichabod, are you free this evening? There was something I wanted to talk to you about.

She left the brief note on his door; she had left early for the day, her task accomplished, so she beat him home by at least an hour. She decided to take a quick shower, freshen her hair, and change into a pretty, breezy sundress. She was nervous about telling him, regardless of the fact that he and Katrina were definitely on the outs. She added a spritz of the cologne he loved, and sat down to watch the news. Thankfully, the story had not yet broken.

Around eight, she heard the knock on the door. Nervously wiping her hands on her dress, she pasted what she hoped was a welcoming smile on her face and opened the door. 

“Abbie, you look lovely as always, as fresh as a summer breeze,” Ichabod said, his warm smile stilling her racing mind.

“Hi, Ichabod, come on in. There was something I wanted to talk to you about. Oh, good grief,” she exclaimed, “where are my manners? How was your day?”

Looking somewhat perplexed by Abbie’s obvious nervousness, Ichabod came in, gave her a brief peck on the lips, and sat next to her on the oversized sofa.

“I’m fine, Treasure, but why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you? This is so unlike you.”

Abbie went on to detail what had transpired, from the beginning when they had suspicions this was the infamous criminal, to the final takedown. When she explained who this woman was, Ichabod visibly blanched.

“God’s wounds! You mean to tell me Katrina is actually an alias, and she is a notorious criminal mastermind? I fear for my mother; she was particularly close to Katrina, almost like a mother to her, and this will be most upsetting.”

Abbie sighed and took Ichabod’s hand, softly running her fingers over his knuckles. “I know, I thought of that. I wish it could be helped, but it had to be done. This is very much like the illegal wildlife trade, where criminal syndicates that are responsible for murder, kidnappings, and terrorism are involved.”

With that, Ichabod’s face turned beet red with anger. 

“To think my parents were so blinded to this hideous monster, solely because she looked the part of a suitable mate, one that would fit in with their society acquaintances. It will serve them right for being so arrogant, haughty, and superficial.”

Abbie quickly interjected, “No one deserves to be exposed to this, nor do they deserve the hurt that will inevitably come. She had everyone fooled. She was a master of disguise and intrigue, and the fact that she evaded detection and capture all these years proves she was good at what she did.”

Ichabod slowly shook his head. “Yes, you are right. It’s not their fault. I know, deep down, they want the best for me. They thought she would help me along in my career, push me to be successful and secure financially; every parent wants what’s best for their child.”

Abbie leaned over and nestled her head on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, it’ll be okay. Just tell them the truth, and they’ll get over it. Once they realize just how much of a bullet you dodged, they will settle down.”

Ichabod pulled her closer, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “Of course, you’re right. Mother and Father are stronger than I give them credit for. They will be fine. Now,” he exclaimed in a loud voice, “let’s get this evening started properly! What movie are we viewing this evening?”

Abbie had to laugh. This guy, she thought, he is something else! With that, she handed him the remote and tucked her legs under her, leaning closer to her man. Yes, we’ll all be fine.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm after the storm.

(A month later)

“Nonsense, my good man, I’ll have you know I was known in many circles for my perfectly seasoned and grilled beefsteak!”

With that, Abbie’s dad handed over the tongs to Mr. Crane. It had been tough going at first for the old guy and his wife, learning how they had been duped by their son’s former fiancée, but they quickly grew to love the new lady in his life, his neighbor Miss Mills. 

Things had changed for Abbie and Jenny, too. They had a chance to spend more time with both their mother and their father; although there was still tension, they could now look back on the past, remembering the good times and the love of their parents before things fell apart.

It was a warm summer day, heading into fall, so there was a freshness to the air that kept it from being too uncomfortable. Abbie had decided to have a cookout, and she and Ichabod invited both of their parents, her sister and Joe, and a few close friends from their respective jobs. It really was an idyllic scene: the fathers compared grilling war stories, while the mothers sat with Jenny and Joe playing euchre. Several other friends were playing horseshoes and cornhole, while Ichabod and Abbie sat on her Adirondack chair soaking up the midafternoon sun.

“Did you ever think your life would be like this?” she asked, threading her small fingers in with his. 

He took a moment to answer, long enough that she wondered if he had heard her. Finally, he said, “We can all dream, and all I can say is, I am the luckiest man alive.” With that, he leaned over and pulled her to him, oblivious to the smiles of everyone around them.


End file.
